A Snowflake's Chance
by CMJavaGirl
Summary: How does the music of the season and the holiday effect Jason and Elizabeth? Will it be a holly jolly Christmas for our misguided couple? Can the New Year bring new happiness for both of them? Written to the 2009 Christmas Fan Fiction Challenge of RTN!
1. Chapter 1

Part One

Prompt: **Winter Wonderland**, the song  
music by Felix Bernard,  
lyrics by Richard B. Smith  
[CFFC09#1]

2009 DECEMBER 18  
PORT CHARLES, NY

**Webber Residence  
Later Afternoon**

"No, no . . . please . . . you can't take my boys . . . you can't . . . please . . ."

She woke with a start – her heart hammering against her slight chest – her face moist with tears – she raised herself off the enveloping sofa as she heard her five-year-old running to her –

"Mommy, Mommy, why are you crying?"

She dashed the tears from her eyes with her fingers and reached out a reassuring arm to her son, "It's okay, Cam . . . Mommy just had a bad dream . . . it's okay, now," she gave him her brightest smile as she scooted him up on the sofa next to her.

**Harborview Towers  
Penthouse of Jason Morgan**

Coming in he tossed his keys on the desk as he normally did. Stripping off his leather jacket he called out, "Spinelli!"

Getting no answer and looking around he sighed with relief – _It's good that Spinelli isn't here right now . . . he'll be back soon enough. I was so hard on Maxie . . ._ he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, _. . . she just doesn't get how dangerous this Franco is and Spinelli just isn't getting through to her . . ._ coming out of the kitchen he took a deep pull of his beer and as he stretched out his shoulders he heard the soft knock on his door.

"Hey!" Sam breezed into the widely open door, "You're back . . . and you're okay . . . I'm glad," she trailed her hand over his chest and then shrugged out of her coat as she took a seat on the sofa, "so, what did you find out about this Franco guy? Do you think he's really dangerous?"

Following her to the sofa, "You want a beer . . . coffee?"

"No, I'm good . . . tell me what you found out . . ." she noticed the tense set of his jaw and his shoulders, _It must be bad if he looks this tense . . ._ "so?"

Sitting on the arm of the club chair he explained, "Well, he confirmed that he sent the picture of Claudia's body . . . and he thinks that he and I are fellow artists of death," he shook his head, "can you believe that?"

He moved into the chair and resting his arms on his knees continued, "He said that the two of us are socio-paths . . ." sitting back he wiped his hand across his chin, "he thinks we're the same and that I enjoy the kill . . . that I'm not happy unless I'm engaged in the pursuit of my prey and making the kill . . ."

"That's not true, Jason," Sam said shaking her head as she leaned toward him, "and that's certainly not you." She considered the man she once loved sitting before her, _It's amazing that he would already doubt himself . . . this nut job is going to have Jason thinking he's as psychotic as he is . . ._ "Listen, Jase, this is not who you are . . . I know that and you know it, too."

She smoothed her hand through her hair, "I saw his studio . . . this guy is crazy, Jason, you're not . . . I know, I've seen how you struggle with guilt and remorse when you've had to eliminate someone for business . . ."

Sitting forward he interrupted her, "I don't think I'm like him . . . he stepped on Joey Limbo's throat, crushed his windpipe and then posed him . . . it's like he takes pleasure in killing . . ."

He looked down at his hands and away for a few seconds, "I've never taken any pleasure . . . so I know we're not alike, but I don't know how to read this guy, Sam . . . I don't know what he has on Michael or what he plans to do with Maxie after taking that picture of her in that chalk outline . . ."

_He's afraid . . . not good . . ._ "Jason, you can't let him control you . . . you're afraid, but you have to take back the control . . ."

Her phone chirped, "I have to take this, it's Spinelli . . ." Jason nodded his understanding, "Hey, Spinelli . . ."

After listening for a few moments, she wrapped up and closed the phone, "Okay, I've got to go out of town for a while . . ." she grabbed her coat from the sofa and in answer to Jason's questioning glance she explained, "Yeah . . . we've got a nice size corporate case and I need to check out the site, but, listen . . ." she put her hand on Jason's arm as he walked her to the door, "Do what you always do, Jason . . . and get control of this nut job's game . . ." she reached up to drop a chaste kiss on his cheek, "take care of yourself and be careful, okay?"

He nodded, "You too and thanks, Sam . . ."

"No problem," and she glided passed him and out the door.

As he closed the door after Sam he took in his once again empty apartment. Usually he found the silence comforting – restoring – calming. Now it seemed to mock him with the voice of a madman. He was seized with the overwhelming and unusual need to be out and around regular normal people doing regular normal every day things. _I need to get that psycho out of my head . . . but more importantly I need to figure out his game . . . what he has . . . _

Jamming his hands in his jacket pockets he made his way through the upper part of the warehouse district, passed several Corinthos-Morgan properties. He took note that his men were at their posts but they wisely did not openly acknowledge him.

The waterfront was teeming with people making their way home from shopping or work or heading to Kelly's for a quick dinner. It felt good to see the normal activities of regular people.

Tucking his chin down he continued passed the glaring lights and blaring sounds that surround GH. He continued his lonely odyssey through town and soon the hustle and bustle he craved fell away. His thoughts about Franco and his concerns about Michael consumed him until he heard a familiar throaty bubble burst of sound that could be the laugh of only one person.

Looking up he realized he was on the outskirts of the Rice Plaza Park and just across from it was one of PC's many Christmas Tree Lots. It took no time for him to clap his eyes on Elizabeth and her two sons. He quickly looked from the woman he loved to the son – sons – he didn't claim.

He felt that bond of longing tighten around his heart for a moment. Sucking in a breath and stepping back into the shadows he allowed himself to watch her laughing with her boys.

_She looks beautiful . . . _he shook his head at his own absurdity, _I'm jealous of that white cap that gets to be among her silky curls . . ._ he laughed at himself, _and I'm just as envious of that white coat that gets to embrace her wonderful lithe little body . . . how can I be jealous of clothes . . . Morgan you're being ridiculous!_

He shook his head and began to move away when she locked her eyes to him. He allowed himself another moment to feast on her as the delicate snowflakes glistened on her hair and face – the cold air giving her that special sparkle she always had in the snow. _I wonder if she still smells like snow?_

_Jason . . ._ She watched him walk away with the barest nod of acknowledgement from him. _I should have called out to him . . . I wanted to call out to him . . ._ She mentally shook her head, _I have my boys . . . his boy . . . and I need to do what's best for him . . ._

She smiled down at her two little men, "So, guys, what do you think . . . you like this one," she pointed to the small tree with misshapen branches that was a little lopsided. _This brings back memories!_ "So . . . guys?"

She heard his quiet voice, the voice she loved, "I think this tree will be the happiest tree in the lot to get to go home with you . . ." she gasped as she turned into a wall of leather and muscle, "Jason . . ." it was a sheer whisper.

"Jay-sin! Jay-sin! You like this tree?"

She turned to address Cam but let his soft strong tones wash over her, "I do, Cam . . . I had a tree like this once and it was a very happy tree . . ." his eyes grazed up to Elizabeth and fluttered over to Jake, "I think it will make you all really happy . . ."

"Yeah, Mommy, let's get this one," Cam jumped up and down on his toes.

As she turned back to say thanks he was gone – as quickly as he appeared he was gone. _He remembers . . ._

Jake nodded, "tzis one, Mommy . . . itz little like me!"

"Come on, guys . . . let's pay the man and get our tree home," she gently ushered them towards the cashier.

**Webber Residence  
About 7:15 PM EST**

Cam and Jake climbed the steps to the small porch, "Come on, Mommy, get the tree . . . get the tree!"

Elizabeth smiled whisking the tree from the back of her SUV and bounced up the stairs, "Okay, guys . . . we've got to get you to bed and to sleep . . ."

"But, Mommy, we 'sposed to decrate the tree!" Cam pouted.

Jake joined in, "Decrate tree, Mommy!"

"Oh, no . . . it's late and it's time for bed," she looked lovingly at her two little men, "besides this little guy," she pointed to the tree, "needs to get used to it's new home, right? We can't go hanging things on it right away, right?"

Cam cocked his head and looked back at the tree, "We-ell," he drawled, "okay, Mommy . . . but we decrate t'morrow, right?"

She nodded, "Right . . . now, upstairs . . . let's get ready for bed . . ."

Coming down stairs less than an hour later she realized as she picked up toys around the living room how tired she was. _I just need to relax a bit . . . just unwind . . . I need to not think right now about Lucky, about Nik, about Rebecca . . . this is my favorite time of year . . . I just want to enjoy it . . ._ putting on some Christmas music and pouring a glass of red wine she kicked off her shoes and snuggled into the sofa.

_It's nice to just be here with my boys . . . look at that sweet little tree . . . and it's snowing . . . perfect . . ._ She took a sip of wine and just let the music wash over her . . . _Mmmm . . . it feels good to just snuggle . . . I'm glad it's finally snowing . . . the boys will love it . . . we can ma . . ._

**Sleigh bells ring, are you listening,  
In the lane, snow is glistening  
A beautiful sight,  
We're happy tonight,  
Walking in a winter wonderland**

I held out one mittened hand to catch the flakes as they drifted down, _It's so beautiful . . . look at it glistening on the trees . . . listen to those chimes . . ._

"Jason," I pulled on his hand, "look!" I started to run through the snow laughing, "look at how it makes the trees sparkle . . . listen to those chimes . . . isn't it wonderful?"

I let go of his hand – I had to spin in the snow, I never felt so happy! It was sheer pleasure – the snow, the sun, the trees, the music – Jason. After a few luxurious spins I had to get back to Jason – I had to have his hand in mine again, "Come on," I pulled him down the lane, "let's walk and kick up the snow!" I issued my dare laughing, "come on . . . it'll be fun . . ."

A rare smile broke across his face, "Kick up snow, huh?" He nodded, "You got it!"

Giving a grand swipe with his boot-clad foot, "how's that . . ." he kicked again, eliciting a peal of laughter from Elizabeth that rang through the park. We kicked our way through the park as I chased after him doing a very good job of kicking up a fair amount of snow myself.

**Gone away is the bluebird,  
Here to stay is a new bird  
He sings a love song,  
As we go along,  
Walking in a winter wonderland.**

As we reached a turn in the lane he reached out and caught me by my wool-clad wrist. He pulled me to him, "You're beautiful . . ." he whispered huskily, "you glow with happiness, your smile lights up a room . . . this park and goes all the way to your eyes . . ." he leaned into me, "your eyes sparkle like a thousand stars were caught inside you . . . when you laugh it sounds like music . . ."

I reached up and smoothed snow from his shoulders and his hair, "You make me sparkle, Jason," I rested my forehead against his chest and just enjoyed the feeling of strength that rolled off him. _I love the way he smells . . . like pine and leather . . . like coffee and soap . . . and love . . ._

I pulled back and took his strong, sure hand in my small one, "Walk with me, Jason."

We strolled down the wooded area – some of the branches hung so low Jason had to hold them out of the way so we could pass.

**In the meadow we can build a snowman,  
Then pretend that he is Parson Brown  
He'll say: Are you married?  
We'll say: No man,  
But you can do the job  
When you're in town.**

As we came on a clearing I ran ahead, "Jason . . ." I turned back to him, "you ever build a snowman?"

He shook his head.

"Not even with Michael and Morgan?"

He shook his head, again, "They did that with their Dad," he shrugged.

"Ohh," I nodded. Tilting my head to him I studied him for a bit, _he has the most beautifully chiseled face . . . it's angular, yet soft . . . strong, yet gentle . . . _I pulled him to the middle of the clearing, "Build one with me . . . we can do it together . . . it's like the song . . ." I started to sing, practically tunelessly, of course, _In the meadow we can build a snow man . . . mmhm mhmm mmhm mhm brown, mhmm mmhm say are you married . . . no man . . . _

He dipped his head and covered the small smile he was trying not to form, _she really can't sing . . . but I still love the sound . . ._ he cocked a brow at her, "Build a snowman?"

I nodded – fairly bouncing in anticipation.

He nodded and shrugged, "Why not?"

Falling to our knees in the powdery ice we each scooped snow into a small ball and started to roll them . . . "Jason, you make the bottom . . . make it about this big," I held my arms out all the way and then curled them in about half way.

He smiled at her excitement, "That big . . . all right, that big," and he started to build up the bottom of the snowman.

"I'll make the middle, and carve in the arms and then we can work on the head . . . we'll need some stones for eyes and nose . . ." I scooped more snow onto my mound, "maybe a stick for his pipe . . ."

"How's this?" Jason shouted.

"Great! Come help me . . . you need to put this on top of the bot . . ."

It seemed only minutes later that our first snowman together was completed. Magically rocks and stones appeared for the finishing touches. After wrapping Elizabeth's wool scarf on the snowman they stood back to admire him.

"Hey, Jason . . . we did a great job!"

**Later on, we'll conspire,  
As we dream by the fire  
To face unafraid,  
The plans that we've made,  
Walking in a winter wonderland.**

He led her over to the edge of the woods and they took a seat on a large log, "We did a really great job," he smiled at her and looked at their snowman.

I leaned into him and felt his arm go around me. _Mmmm, I missed this . . ._ "That was so much fun, Jason," I snuggled into him, "I've missed you so much . . ."

"I've missed you, too. More than you could ever know," I felt his arm tighten around me and his chaste kiss on the top of my forehead.

"Jason?"

"Hmm . . . yeah?"

"I want to be with you . . . I want the boys to be with you," I snuggled further against him. _I can't get close enough . . ._

"I want to be with you, with them, too," I felt him squeeze me to him.

"I think we could do it . . ." I assured him softly, "you once said we could make a life together . . . I want to make a life with you, Jason . . . I'm not afraid anymore . . ."

He pulled back to look at me, "I want that, too . . . but I want you to be happy and to be safe . . ." I felt his kiss on my forehead, again.

"You'll keep us safe, Jason," fresh snow started to fall. "Look . . . it's snowing again!"

He was looking at me and smiling, _Almost like . . . I bet that's how he looked as a kid . . ._

**When it snows, ain't it thrilling,  
Though your nose gets a chilling  
We'll frolic and play, the Eskimo way,  
Walking in a winter wonderland.**

_Fwwhap!_ "Oooh! Hey!" I heard him laugh – laugh! _I don't think I've every heard Jason laugh before . . ._ I watched the remnants of the snowball drift down my coat, "I'm going to get you for that, Morgan . . ." and I sent one of my own snowballs hurling towards him and heard the satisfying _shlawhp!_ As it hit his leather jacket.

I couldn't contain my giggles and they filled the air as I saw the surprised look on his face! In mere seconds we were fully engaged in a snow battle and rolling in it like children. Their snowman watched over them like a benign grandfather. _It's so good to hear him laugh . . . God, I haven't had fun like this in so long . . ._

Suddenly I didn't see him. _Where did he go? Jason! Where are you?_

"Hey, Parson Brown!" I looked at our snowman, "where did he go?" I pretended not to see him playing possum behind our enormous snowman.

**In the meadow we can build a snowman,  
And pretend that he's a circus clown  
We'll have lots of fun with mister snowman,  
Until the other kids knock him down.**

_Fwwhap!_ I felt the cold lump hit my back and smiled, "There you are," I giggled as I turned right into his chest and felt his arms go right around me.

He grabbed my hand and pointed behind the snow figure, "I made us an ammo stash . . . I think we might need it soon . . ."

"An ammo stash? You're too funny, Jason!" I gave him a playful shove.

And as the words left my mouth, without warning we were pelted by snowballs!

I ran to the stash and returned each volley, "Good thinkin', Jason!"

"Thanks!" And he joined me in returning fire, "get behind the snowman . . . make more . . . I'll hold them off," he laughed.

"Okay . . . I'm making more . . ." and I happily set to work quickly forming more snowballs. And then I heard a strange _Fwop! Fwop! Fwop!_

And as suddenly as the snow fight started – it ended. The laughter ended. Silence settled over clearing.

Looking up I saw Jason on the other side of the snowman. He was lying in the snow.

"Playing possum, again, Jason?"

I ambled over to him ready to pounce on his prone form, but was stopped by the pool of red glistening in the soft snow. _It looks like a bowl of cherries . . ._

I let my snowball fall as I dropped to my knees, _Not again . . . not again . . . ohmigod . . . Jason!_ I turned him over and shook him by the shoulders. _Jason! You can't do this . . . you can't leave me again!_ His eyes were closed – I felt something sticky on my hand. _Jason! Wake up! Look, it's snowing, again . . . Jason! Jason . . . no!_

**Walking in a winter wonderland**

She tossed and twisted. She felt the warm liquid touching her – her eyes fluttered open – she jackknifed to a sitting position, her heart pounding against her slender frame, her throat constricted in fear, "Jason . . ." it came out in a hoarse whisper.

**Walking in a winter wonderland**

Looking down where she felt wet she watched the red wine stain the white blanket she had wrapped around her, she shook her head and threw herself back against the sofa cushions, "It was just a dream . . . a nightmare," and she closed her eyes, "Jason, I don't care . . . I really need you . . ."

End, Part One


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

Prompt: **Winter Wonderland**, the song  
music by Felix Bernard,  
lyrics by Richard B. Smith  
[CFFC09#1]

2009 DECEMBER 18  
PORT CHARLES, NY

**Harborview Towers  
Penthouse of Jason Morgan  
About 6:55 PM EST**

Coming in he tossed his keys on the desk as he did everyday, every time.

The penthouse was empty.

_Since Spinelli's been spending more time with Maxie and working on his PI business he isn't here as much._ He paced over to the sofa and looked at the pictures across his mantle. _I've become used to having him around . . . he could be annoying a lot of the time, but he's a good friend and I can trust him._

Shrugging out of his jacket he paced around the penthouse for a few minutes. _I'm not sure if I'm relieved that no one's here or . . ._ he shook his head in frustration and stalked into the kitchen. Swallowing a pull of his beer he took up his usual spot in front of the French doors. He still hadn't turned on any lights.

Crossing his arms he hung his head back in frustration _God, I remember standing right here with her,_ he looked out at the harbor,_ I wanted to touch her hair, hold her . . . I did for a bit when I showed her Alcazar's ship . . ._ he shook his head and laughed at himself, _jealous of her clothes . . ._ as he took another pull of his beer he heard the front door opening, but he stayed where he was.

Coming in the door he thought, at first, that he was alone. But setting his messenger bag on the desk chair he spied Stone Cold's keys. _Ah, my Master has returned . . ._ He looked around quickly, _no lights . . ._

He walked further into the penthouse, "Jason?"

He heard his friend's quiet gravelly voice from the opposite end of the living space, "I'm here, Spinelli . . ." he said without turning toward the younger man.

_Something is most definitely amiss tonight. I know he's very concerned about this Franco guy and Michael . . . and he's afraid for Maxie, for which I am unbelievably grateful . . ._ Spinelli shook his head, _but standing in the dark . . . this is not like him . . . it's like he's hiding, my Master never hides even from the most horrible factions of his life or from himself . . . I wonder . . ._

Stripping off his coat and scarf, he approached his friend quietly, "Jason, what happened? Please . . . can I help you? Is it Franco . . . have his threats escalated, did he do something to Michael?"

Jason smiled just a fraction as he turned to his young friend shaking his head, "No, Spinelli, it's not any of those things . . ." his voice trailed off as he continued to look out at the harbor taking another pull on his beer.

Spinelli kept his distance as he studied his older friend, _I haven't seen it in a while, but there's really only one thing that can put him in this humor . . ._ clearing his throat, "Is it Elizabeth and the boys?"

His nod was almost imperceptible.

Spinelli breathed a sigh that was a mixture of relief and sadness. _At least it's not business or Franco or Sonny. But, Elizabeth . . . there's so little I can do to help him. He misses her and the boys so desperately._

Hesitantly he asked, "I know you don't like to talk about your problems, Jason, but, maybe, it might help . . ."

Jason turned from the doors and walked slowly toward his young friend. He gave him a small smile as he motioned for him to sit down. Joining him on the sofa, he shook his head slightly, "Thanks, Spinelli, but I don't think it would," he set his empty bottle on the coffee table and pinched the bridge of his nose.

_I don't want to overstep . . ._ Spinelli openly studied Jason, _it's so hard to get him to talk unless it's business . . ._ He quietly cleared his throat, "Uhmm, did you see her, the Maternal One . . . and the boys?" he asked haltingly.

Jason leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees, "Yeah," he nodded, "I did."

Spinelli wisely said nothing but was surprised that his mentor had actually started to talk about Elizabeth.

"I was just taking a walk to clear my head . . . and I saw her at a tree lot with the boys . . ." his voice trailed off as he got up and walked over to the mantle. He turned back to his young friend, "I did something I shouldn't have . . ." he sighed.

Spinelli furrowed his brow in confusion, "What could you have . . ."

Jason sighed in frustration, in regret, "At first I was just," he looked away for a second, "watching them . . . but then I . . ." he looked away again, "then I went over to them and they were . . . Elizabeth was picking this tree out . . ." Spinelli noticed one of his mentor's rare smiles break, as he continued, "it was just like the tree she had when she first hid me in her studio . . ." he shook his head remembering, "she was only eighteen . . ." he sighed as he walked back over to the French doors.

Spinelli got up from the sofa and followed Jason stopping at the near end of the pool table and allowing his mentor his space, and gently prodded, "You went over to them?"

Jason nodded, "Yeah . . ." running his hand over his face, "she was trying to convince the boys . . . well really Cam to buy this small lopsided tree," he smiled, "and I spoke to Cam . . . and repeated something Elizabeth said to me that Christmas . . ." he shook his head as he crossed his arms.

Spinelli waited patiently for him to continue, it was a lesson he was finally learning from his mentor. But after a while as the silence stretched out he remembered that Jason was anything than typical and did not feel the need to talk endlessly about himself. Quietly he prompted, "What did you say?"

But before his stoic roommate and mentor could answer there was an anxious knocking on the door. Wanting to rid them of the intruder as quickly as possible, Spinelli responded with alacrity and threw open the door revealing his Maximista.

"Oh, good, you're here," she rushed in with an armload of shopping bags and packages, "there's more in the hall, Spinelli . . . it's time to bring a little Christmas cheer to this dreary man-cave," she exclaimed as she moved into the room and put down the bags she was carrying.

Taking off her gloves and scarf she prattled on, "Doesn't Jason even decorate for Christmas . . . I mean even Sonny decorates for Christmas . . . and I'm sure there are lots of other people that do the work he does and I'm sure at least some of them decorate . . ."

She shrugged out of her coat and started to go through one of the bags, "I've got some music . . . hip stuff not that old stuff . . . I got a custom CD burned with Radiohead, Sheryl Crow and Phantom Planet's version of that walking in Winter Wonderland song, it's great and it has a bunch of other stuff, jazzy ones too . . ." she walked over to the credenza and popped in the disc, "the tree is being delivered . . ."

"_**MAXIE!**_" Spinelli gently shouted. He'd been trying to get a word in on her ramble since she started.

She walked back to her fretful friend still standing by the door, "Spinelli . . . the packages . . ."

He cleared his throat and placing his hands on her slim shoulders turned her toward the French doors, "Stone Cold celebrates his Christmas in a reserved manner without all the fanfare and pagan trimmings . . ."

Maxie breathed out her surprise, "Jason, I didn't see you . . ." _Sam said he's been really tense lately and he's been on edge about this Franco guy. She said he just wants to protect me and that he's afraid for me . . . me, wow._ She started to apologize, "I didn't mean anything . . ."

Jason turned toward her, "Maxie, it's all right . . . any other year if you wanted to decorate it would be fine . . . I have no problems with Christmas decorations . . ." he noted her eyes widen in surprise, "but not this year, okay?"

She nodded resolutely, "Sure, Jason, no problem . . . really." She started to put on her coat and moved back to the door, "Come on, Spinelli . . . we can go decorate at my place . . ."

Spinelli looked lovingly at the woman he loved, his Almost Wife, _I don't want her to misunderstand . . . I need to stay here and try to help Jason not as a hacker but as a friend. I know that she's started to resent that I'm not always available to her but tonight Jason needs a friend._ He swallowed nervously, "Maxie, I can come over la . . ."

"Spinelli!" Jason called out from where he was standing on the far side of the pool table, "Go with Maxie. You should be with her tonight."

Spinelli moved passed his Maximista, "But, Stone Cold . . ."

Jason turned to face his young friend, "Go . . . I'm fine." He raised his brows pointedly, "You should be with Maxie."

_My Master is encouraging me to be with my Lady Love and not walk his path. I wish I could offer him the same encouragement, but I've tried . . ._

Spinelli nodded his understanding, "Get something to eat, okay?"

Jason nodded, "Go . . . Thanks, Maxie."

She nodded to the enforcer, "Night, Jason." _Something really is going on with him, Sam was right._

As Maxie and Spinelli left he turned back to his musings as he starred out to the harbor. The Christmas music that Maxie left playing started to drift into his thoughts.

He wasn't a man that got lost in his own thoughts often, but life, lately, had forced him to re-think many things. When he heard the door gently opened again he assumed it was Spinelli coming back for something he'd forgotten or the CD Maxie left behind that still continued to play. It caught him by surprise when he got a whiff of her familiar scent.

"Jase?"

He let out a small sigh, "Yeah . . ."

Turning on the lights she followed the sound of his voice but she knew where he'd be and she silently came along side him and smoothed her arm around his back.

"How long have you been standing here?"

He shrugged and shook his head, "A while . . ."

She moved to face him putting her hands on his folded arms, "Jason, Spinelli called . . ." she said softly, "he's worried and so am I."

He heaved another small sigh and managed a small smile, "There's really no need, Spinelli shouldn't have called you . . . you have enough to take care of . . ."

She looked at him in surprise, "I can make time for you, and God knows you deserve it!" She lightly patted his arm, "You always make time for me and the boys, it's my turn . . ." she hooked her hand around his forearm and pulled him gently toward the sofa, "Come sit, did you eat tonight . . . today?"

And, as if on cue, the door opened and Todd, one of the building guards, held a large brown paper bag from Kelly's.

"Thanks, Todd, is it?" she questioned.

He nodded, "Yes, ma'am, Todd Ikenberry."

She smiled, "Well, Todd, I'm Carly Jacks." She looked over at Jason standing behind the sofa, "Mr. Morgan would like you to be on the door tonight with a regular rotation. Will you, please, see to the arrangements?"

He looked passed her to Jason and at Jason's nod, agreed, "Yes, Mrs. Jacks, I'll take care of it."

As the guard left Jason quirked a brow at Carly as she dropped the bag on the coffee table and turned toward the kitchen for beer and eating utensils.

"Guards?" He asked as she came back and sat down on the sofa.

"Yes, you're distracted . . . so, guards." She opened the bags and set out the food, "I brought your favorite, number seven, so . . . come sit. It's almost nine-thirty . . . you need to eat," she patted the sofa seat next to her.

As he took a bite of his pastrami sandwich she casually asked, "So . . ." she took a chip, "what's got you starring out the window for hours, not eating and not hearing people walking into your penthouse?"

"Carly . . . I'm not going . . ."

"Yes, you are. Look, Jase, I'm practically your oldest friend." She rubbed his upper arm gently as she always had, "I know you're having a really tough time right now and I want to help you however I can . . . Jase . . . talk to me . . ." she implored.

He didn't say anything, but he rubbed his hand over his chin and was kneading his hands one into the other and Carly knew that these were all signs of stress for him. She waited.

_She knows I can't and won't talk to her about the business, and she still doesn't really like Elizabeth . . . but she is my oldest friend other than Sonny or Robin . . . and she, I think, actually knows me better that either of them . . . and she knows . . ._

"Jase," she prompted, "is it Elizabeth? Jake?" Noting his surprise, she added, "Spinelli, told me you saw them today?"

She watched her ever stoic friend keeping a tight rein on the emotions so many thought he didn't have. _They really didn't know him at all._

He swallowed thickly and finally said softly, "This is going to be Jake's third Christmas . . ." he looked away to hide the emotions swimming in his eyes, "his third . . . I've missed them all and I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to keep missing them . . . and birthdays . . . and first day's of school . . . and so many other days . . ." his voice trailed off in a whisper.

"Oh, Jason . . ." again she reached out a comforting hand, "I can't even imagine the pain this must be causing for you . . ." she took in a deep breath, "you're always so strong, so resolute . . . we forget, I forget sometimes how much you can hurt . . ."

He looked over at the woman who, for the most part, had been a good friend to him, "Carly, I have to find a way to live with this . . . I've done it before, but at least I could see Michael and be around him . . ."

"Jason . . ." she felt that pang of anguish she always felt for him when he talked about her son, "Michael loves you . . . you know that," she reassured him.

He shook his head and countered quietly, "I don't think so, Carly . . . once maybe, but not since he came out of the coma," he looked away for a bit, "I understand better than anyone that he's different now . . . but that's not it . . . he sees me now for what I am . . . a killer, a thug . . . and . . . and that's okay . . ." he swallowed thickly, "I expected that someday . . . but now he thinks what I do is something to admire . . . something to achieve," he took several deep breaths to regain his composure.

Getting up he moved to the mantle and studied the picture of Michael from when he was a boy, "I don't even know how you can look at me Carly . . . I failed you . . . but mostly I wrecked Michael by bringing him into this life . . . sometimes I think about what his life would be if I hadn't taken from the Quartermaines . . ." his voice trailed off in despair.

_I don't know what to say to make this better . . . he's the one that always makes everything better, everybody safer, life easier._

She blinked back the tears that had formed so he wouldn't see them. _He hides his hurt even better than I thought . . . but Michael . . . and Jake are pulling him down. I have no idea how to help him._

She didn't join him at the mantle, she knew him well enough that he moved from her to get some distance, turning towards him, "Jason," she said softly, "please, Jason. You didn't ruin Michael . . . Sonny and I did that . . . we allowed him to get away with a lot because of the life he was in."

Now she joined him at the mantle. She hooked her hand through his arm and turned him to face her, "You kept Michael from the Quartermaines, Jason, because I asked you to . . . AJ was going to take him and I would have never known my son . . ." she broke off and put her hand on his cheek, she felt a single drop fall from his wonderful blue eyes, "you were the best father Michael had, Jason . . . and I took him away. Sonny and I wrecked Michael . . . not you."

_He works so hard to keep his emotions in check . . . sometimes I wish he would just let go . . ._ she gave an inward snort, _I wonder what we would all do then . . . if our rock cracked._

She led him back to the sofa, "Jason, you always looked out for Michael . . . what was best for Michael . . . not yourself, Michael . . . always Michael . . . you're doing it now and it's costing you, again . . . please do not blame yourself for Michael's behavior . . . I think we can turn him around . . . there's still time for him," she said as reassuringly as she could.

She saw, what could only be, hope, radiating from his watery blue eyes, "I hope you're right, Carly . . . I would hate for him," he swept his hands around the room, "to have this life . . . it's not a good life, Carly."  
"I know you want better for him, Jase, you always do, but I didn't come here to talk to you about Michael," she leaned in and hugged his arm and then pulled back, "I actually came here for you, Jason . . ." she, again, cupped his face with her hand, "what can we do to make it better for you . . . that's what we need to figure out."

_How do I tell her that this is it. This is all I will have . . . she means well, but I'm not sure she can understand this._

He got out a small smile and swallowed passed the baseball-sized lump in his throat, "Carly, Michael not following in my footsteps will make this better for me," he looked pointedly at her, "and Jake not knowing about me at all and having a chance at a good, solid life . . . that will make this better for me."

He saw her tilt her head towards him, she reproached, "You deserve so much more, Jase . . . you deserve better . . ."

He shook his head, "No, Carly . . . I don't. I deserve what I have because it's the life I chose," he said gravely, "I didn't realize that it would be this, but it is . . . and things happen and you find a way through . . . because what happens happens, and that's what you live with."

End, Part Two


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 20, 2009  
PORT CHARLES, NY

**The Webber Residence  
Mid-Morning**

Looking out her back door she delighted at the snow covered yard. The snow brought a special freshness.

She loved snow.

Lots of people thought it was nutty, but there it was – she loved snow. The newness and purity of it, the colors it brought out, the glint of the sun on its surface, the crisp coolness of the air and the way it crunched under your feet. She loved the serene quiet after a snowfall. She loved the way it could be soft and hard at the same time and more than anything she loved the way it smelled.

She smiled remembering what he used to say to her. _You smell like snow._

But now she wondered if she would ever see it the same way again. She remembered how difficult it was to look at snow after finding Jason lying in it bleeding. It was almost three seasons before she could see snow without seeing Jason's blood seeping into it. It reminded the artist in her of cherries in the snow, the way the droplets seeped into the ice crystals.

She heaved a deep sigh – and now since that strange dream the other night she kept seeing blood in the snow – Jason's blood – cherries in the snow.

"Mommy, Mommy . . . we want to go out . . . can we go out, yet?" Cam anxiously tugged at her, "we want to make a snowman!"

Jake joined his brother's excitement, "Snowmin, Cam . . . Mommy, Snowmin!"

She couldn't shake the memory of the snowman she built with Jason in her dream. They had so much fun building it that she wished it could have been a real memory. But finding Jason bleeding in the snow, again, made her equally glad that it was just that – a dream. _Funny how dreams can start out so great and end up so scary . . ._

She shook off the dream and looked down at her two little men and nodded, "Let's go build the best snowman ever . . . come on, lets get our coats . . ."

"And mitties!" Cam joined in.

In short order the little Webber clan was playing in the newly fallen snow that was just perfect for snowman building – not too fluffy and not too wet – and the building was underway.

Standing back to admire their handiwork, Cam tugged on his Mommy's hand, "Scarf, Mommy, Snowy needs a scarf!"

Quickly she removed her own and wrapped it around the snowman. As she stood back she could not suppress the gasp – _That's the same scarf I used in the dream!_

She mentally shook herself and brought her attention back to her boys. Her eyes narrowed as she strode over to her boys. Plastering a firm smile in place she made her tone light and happy so as not to alarm Cam and Jake, "What are you doing here?"

"Elizabeth," Rebecca greeted cocking her eyebrow, "I was just passing by and stopped to admire your snowman . . ." grinning broadly, she leaned down to Cam, "Did you make this Cam?"

"Cam, honey," his Mommy gently turned him to face her, "Take Jake inside . . . we have to get ready to go to Grams."

"Okay, Mommy . . . 'ommon, Jake," grabbing his little brother by the hand.

Elizabeth watched her boys go through the back door and coolly turned to Rebecca, "Stay away from my children . . ." she leaned in and said in a tight whisper, "you have no right to talk to them . . . WE are not friends, you are NOT Emily."

Rebecca sneered, "Oh, but, Elizabeth, please, I meant . . ."

"I don't care what you meant, Rebecca, stay away from my boys," she turned toward the house and after a few steps she turned back, "I told you the other day that Lucky and I have a bond that goes back for years and how that happened. You can't touch that . . ." she nodded shortly, "Now, I've got to get to work . . . please leave."

Getting back to the house, she quickly grabbed the bags for each of her boys, "Come on, guys . . . it's time to go to Grams . . ." she hustled them into their car seats and they were on their way.

A scant fifteen-minutes later she pulled into the driveway of 453 Maple Avenue and Grams was waiting on the porch. The boys were already wriggling to get out of their seats to be with their Grams. Elizabeth was a bit surprised to see her brother come through the door and come over to help her with the boys.

"Steven! I didn't expect to see you here." She gave him a quick hug.

"And miss a chance to see my nephews . . ." he opened the side door of the SUV, "Hey, Cam!" He released the boy from the bonds of the car seat and helped him jump down, and then reached over to Jake, "Let's get you out of this," he undid the cross straps and plucked a happy Jake out of his seat.

"Uncle Steven!" Cam tugged on his hand, "We built a snowman at our house . . . he is so big, he's a giant, and Mommy help us, and she put her scarf on him, and you should see it!"

Steven smiled broadly at his nephew's excited ramble, "Well, I guess I'll have to come over and see this giant snowman you made," he added, "and maybe you can help me build a snowman for Grams! What do you think?"

"Yeah! And Jake can help us too!"

Elizabeth had just gotten to the front door with the boy's bags and Jake, when Audrey called from the porch, "Okay, Cam . . . I can't wait to see the snowman you guys are going to build, but how about a little lunch first, hmmm?"

Cam turned to his Grams, "You gonna make grilcheeses, Grams?"

She nodded as he ran up to the porch.

Cam grabbed his uncle's hand, "Come-on, Uncle Steven, Grams makes the best grilcheeses and I'm hungry!" He pulled his smiling uncle onto the porch.

Inside Audrey helped her granddaughter get Jake settled. "So, Elizabeth, you're taking extra shifts?"

"Yeah . . ." she mumbled unpacking the motorcycle toy that Jake favored and he was preoccupied with it immediately, "Yeah, Grams, thanks so much for helping me out. I'm going to try to pick up a few Sunday shifts . . . the money is good but the GH daycare is closed on Sunday, so this is really helpful."

Audrey nodded, "It's no problem, but if you're having money troubles . . . maybe I can help you . . ."

"Oh, no . . . nothing like that," Elizabeth interrupted, "it's just that if Lucky and I are going to build our new house I need to pick up some extra money, that's all."

Audrey smiled at her industrious granddaughter, "I'm so excited for you and Lucky . . . I knew you would find your way back to each other," she sighed contentedly.

"You've been so good for each other . . . since you were practically children," she gave a congratulatory squeeze to Elizabeth's shoulder, "the two of you have grown and matured so much . . . and this is what's best . . . and he's good for you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth was momentarily lost in her own thoughts, "Yeah, Grams," she murmured dreamily.

The clock struck the hour and she was brought back to the present, "I've got to get going," she gave Audrey a quick hug, "thanks again," she hurried out the door, "be good for Grams, boys, I'll be back after work!"

"Grilcheeses, Grams, Grilcheeses!" Cam clamored.

As she turned toward the kitchen, Audrey was struck by her granddaughter's odd expression as she talked of Lucky and her rush to leave –

"Graa - ah - ahm - mzz!"

She smiled down at her oldest Grandson, "Yes, Cam . . . grilcheeses coming right up!"

**General Hospital  
Sixth Floor Nurses Hub  
1:00 PM EST**

GH worked in a typical eight-hour shift pattern, but the new Bridge Shifts allowed Elizabeth the opportunity to pick up some some extra money. And it was only a six-hour shift so she could still be home in time to put the boys to bed.

As she stepped onto the sixth-floor hub she spied him coming off the elevators and making his way straight toward her. Within moments he was waiting for her to give him her attention.

_How many times am I going to have to tell him that we can't continue to do this . . ._ taking a deep breath to quell her annoyance she turned to him, "My shift just started, Nikolas, what are you doing here?" She looked around to see if the Shift Supervisor was near.

Nikolas leaned in to whisper, "I had to see you, Elizabeth . . . we have to talk about us . . . about what we're going to do . . ."

She reared her head back slightly in frustration, and whispered, "I told you, I'm marrying your brother, you and I are going to forget that we ever had this ill-fated affair and we're both going to hope and pray that Lucky never finds out what we did . . . that's what we're going to do."

She leaned closer to him, he breathed in her scent and interrupted, "I love you . . ." he choked out, "you know that . . . and I think you lo . . ."

"I love Lucky, I'm marrying Lucky, I'm going to make a life with Lucky . . ." she pulled back from him, "this is over . . . it shouldn't have started and if he ever, ever finds out it will kill him . . . is that what you want?"

"Nurse Webber!"

"You've got to go," Elizabeth whispered sharply to Nik and turned to the Supervising Duty Nurse, "Ms. Branchley . . ." she said brightly and efficiently, "the lab results Dr. Clydemoor ordered just came up and films just came up from X-ray for Ms. Kayllet in room 624 East . . ."

It was a rough six hours.

Not because the patient load was too heavy or the demands of the job too great.

It wasn't that there were multiple emergencies that stretched everyone too thin  
and it wasn't that she got tied up in the OR with a critical patient.

No.

It was a rough shift because she couldn't afford to make another mistake like she had last week, _God, if Epiphany hadn't caught that wrong meds dose the guy would be dead._

It took all her efforts to keep her concentration on her work.

Not on Lucky wanting to marry her.  
And not on Nikolas proclaiming his love for her.  
And not that she was cheating on her fiancé with his brother.  
And not on that crazy dream about Jason.

Jason.

Plopping down on a bench in the Women's Lounge she sighed deeply and tried to shake the confusion from her head. _But how do I shake the confusion from my heart?_

"Why are you shaking your head?"

Elizabeth hadn't heard the lounge door open and looked up wearily, "Robin, hey . . ." she murmured.

It took only seconds for Robin to see the strain in her friends face and eyes. _I know she's been distracted lately and she hasn't seemed herself . . . she's nervous and snappish . . . not like her at all._

"What's going on, Elizabeth?" She took a seat next to her on the bench. "You've just not been yourself lately . . . you helped me so much when I was having a hard time . . . how about you let me return the favor?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No, no, really, Robin, I'm okay . . . just a lot on my mind . . . its fine."

Robin leaned forward to study her young friend, "Really, Elizabeth, I think you could use a friend and I'd like to help you in any way I can. Why don't we get out of here, and just go someplace to unwind for a bit and talk?"

Elizabeth studied her friend for a few moments considering her offer, _I wish Em was here, but I really couldn't even talk to her about all this . . . besides if she was here I wouldn't be in this mess . . ._

Finally, she nodded. "Thanks, Robin. I really do need someone to talk to . . . I have to call Grams, though, and ask her to keep the boys a bit longer . . ."

A few minutes later both women were changed and on their way. Audrey was thrilled to have the boys longer as was Mac to have more time with baby Emma.

Exiting GH they could see that there had been a fresh snowfall since they both went on duty. Elizabeth suddenly broke away and ran toward the small front courtyard. Robin reached her standing over a bunch of strewn red rose petals – her face was paler than usual and she looked unusually shaken.

"Elizabeth?" Robin anxiously pulled her friend from the petals, "What is it?"

Blinking several times to clear the vision that was before her, Elizabeth shook her head, "It's nothing . . . I'm sorry. Let's just go . . ." and she turned away.

"Jake's?" Robin asked.

Elizabeth thought about it, "Let's go some other place, okay?"

Robin nodded, "Sure . . . you know there's this new little café that opened up around the corner from the MetroCourt . . . the _Coco-Java_how about there?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Sounds good, how about you drive?"

In just ten minutes they pulled up to a sleek, quiet, little café. The walls were richly paneled in a walnut colored wood. The chairs were upholstered in a coffee and espresso colored harlequin pattern and surrounded neat cherry tables.

Taking seats at a secluded table towards the back, they each ordered hot chocolate and settled in to chat. But the chatting didn't come.

Robin waited and kept a close eye on her tense friend as she worried one of the cream paper napkins into shreds.

Elizabeth was trying to decide what she wanted to talk about first and who she wanted to talk about first. As her slim shoulders tensed even more another napkin fell victim to her nervous fingers.

The clink and clatter of cups and china fell away as an uneasy pall surrounded their small table. As frustration pinched Elizabeth's face, and her fingers set to work on a third napkin, Robin finally addressed one of, she thought, the issues worrying her friend.

Reaching out Robin put a stilling hand on Elizabeth's, and gently asked, "Liz, do you want to marry Lucky?"

End, Part Three


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

Prompt: **December Makes Me Feel This Way**, song  
music & lyrics by Alan Rich, Jud J. Friedman, Dave Koz  
[CFFC09#2]

MONDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2009  
PORT CHARLES, NY

**The Factory District  
273 Willow Street  
About 4:00 AM EST**

He lovingly draped the scarf around the neck of the bust that sat on his work table. He caressed the feather soft blue shaded crochet knots that had embraced her neck.

Leaning down he breathed in her scent, _Mmmm . . . vanilla and . . ._ he sniffed again, _pancakes . . ._ a grin broke over his face bringing a glint to his dark eyes.

Turning, he faced the photo montage he created honoring his hero and gave a slight bow, "You have very good taste, Mr. Morgan . . ."

He carefully pinned a new picture to the photo wall of a young woman and two small children building a snowman in the morning sun.

**Warehouse District  
Warehouse #10 - Van Ness Street  
7:00 AM EST**

"Jason," Dominic called out, "Last night Sonny told me to report to you, today." He looked around the bustling warehouse, "what's with all the toys?"

Jason looked up from the clip board he was signing off on and handing it back to the foreman, answered, "You're late . . ." he indicated all the toys to his left, "these have to get over to Queen of Angels, to St. Leo's, and to the Community Center this morning. Johnny's taking over the load that goes to GH and Mercy."

Dominic looked around, "Wow, really . . . how come you're doing this?"

Jason walked passed him, "We do it every year . . . its December, it's Christmas time and this is what we do. . . . you can go help Gio and Richie get the trucks loaded."

He spied Johnny coming through the door, "Johnny, you need to get the truck ready to go to GH and Mercy . . . take Marco and Adam."

"Will do, Jason." He noticed that the enforcer wasn't as relaxed as he was normally. He'd seen Jason in the most stressful situations still remain relaxed, but the last couple of weeks he'd been very tense. _He's been tense like this since Claudia disappeared . . . it can't be good._ He shook it off and called out to Adam and Marco to load up the truck for the hospitals, "Let's get moving guys . . . it's time to be Santas!"

Dominic watched Jason from across the truck bay flip open his phone and heard him say he was taking the rest of the day off. _I can only assume he's telling Sonny. Sometimes I wonder who's actually in charge here._ He shrugged off his concerns and concentrated on loading the trucks.

**Harborview Towers  
Penthouse of Jason Morgan  
9:10 AM EST**

Answering the knock on the door he accepted the brown kraft envelope from Todd.

"Did you check it?" Noticing that it was simply addressed 'Jason Morgan' and was obviously hand delivered.

"It just has a picture in it."

Spinelli nodded and placed it on the desk.

Gathering his coat and bag, he left the penthouse for his own offices. He quickly returned, grabbing the envelope off the desk he opened it to find a picture of a snowman.

_A snowman?_ His brow furrowed. _I can't imagine what this would mean to Stone Cold. Maybe I should just keep it for a bit until after Christmas . . . he's so, I don't know . . . tight right now . . ._

Shoving the envelope in his bag he left the penthouse for the second time.

**Greystone Manor  
Home of Sonny Corinthos  
About 1:30 PM EST**

Nodding to Milo he casually entered the living room, turning back to Milo, he asked, "Where is he?"

Milo shrugged, "Probably in the kitchen . . ."

Jason nodded and leaned against the desk waiting. It was only a few minutes later that Sonny came bounding down the steps holding a small package.

"Where you been . . . I called you hours ago," his voice tinged with a bit of annoyance.

He took himself off the desk, "I told you I was taking the day off, Sonny," he sighed slightly, "I was riding . . ."

Sonny shook his head smiling, "In this weather? Now I know something's up. You take the day off, you disappear for hours, some of the guys say you're cranky . . ."

"What do you need, Sonny?"

"This Franco guy's got you this rattled?" He shook his head as he poured himself a glass of water, he offered to pour for Jason.

"No, thanks," shaking his head.

Adjusting his jacket Sonny took his usual seat, "I don't know why," he shook his head in wonder, "I just don't know why you didn't take him out when you had the chance . . . if you had taken him out this would be over and Michael would be safe."

Heaving a heavy sigh, Jason said tightly, "I don't know what he has on Michael, Sonny, I told you that. And until I find out, even if he's . . . even if I take him out, Michael may not be safe. Safe," he snorted pinching the bridge of his nose, "like we can keep anyone safe . . ."

Sonny narrowed his eyes as he studied his oldest friend, "What's eating you, Jason? It's more than Franco."

"More than you know or even care to know, Sonny, and Franco is not a small part," he sat on the sofa and ran his hands over his face. "He's been stalking me, Sonny, for months and I don't know what he knows or who he knows that's important to me. He knows Michael is. He says I hide behind the people I claim to protect and that I need to admit that I enjoy 'my art' . . . my art as a killer."

Jason looked over at the man he used to consider his best friend. "I don't believe that killing is my 'art' and I don't take the pleasure in it that he thinks I do or should . . ."

"I know you don't, Jason," Sonny interrupted.

Jason looked at Sonny and couldn't keep the surprise from showing, "Sonny, the first thing you wanted to know when I told you that Franco was a threat to Michael was why didn't I kill him," he dropped his gaze to his hands, "that's all anyone sees anymore . . . a killer . . ."

"Whoa, man . . . where's this coming from?" Sonny's brow furrowed in surprise, "I know you don't take pleasure in killing someone, you never have," shaking his head, he clapped his hand to his chest, "It's just a part of business . . . and you've talked me down from bloodshed, God, Jason, I don't even know how many times."

He leaned in toward Jason, "I know you're right about this Franco guy and what he has or thinks he has on Michael. I trust you," he sighed sitting back, "I don't know, I've been so nuts since this thing with Claudia and Michael acting out and wanting to be in this business. And Kristina . . . you know she heard me at the MetroCourt?"

Jason nodded, "I know." He studied Sonny for a few moments and looked around at all the boxes in the room. "You're decorating for Christmas?"

Sonny grinned broadly, "Yeah, Alexis agreed to let Kristina come over to help me out," he laughed slightly, "she said I could use a woman's touch. And I thought this would be a good opportunity to talk to Kristina and let her get to know me a bit better . . . and to apologize for what happened at the MetroCourt . . ."

Jason nodded, "Sounds good, Sonny . . . I hope it works out."

Getting up to leave, he turned to Sonny sliding his hands in his pockets, "Listen, I know you're worried about Michael . . . I am too. And this may be your last Christmas with the boy you know," he held up his hand to stop Sonny from interrupting, "the Quartermaine's lost me and they didn't have time to appreciate our last Christmas together, or birthday, or even a day . . ." his voice cracked.

Taking a few deep breaths to get control of his emotions, he continued, "Sonny, all I'm saying is, appreciate the time you have with Michael. You can try to keep him out of this business, we . . . neither of us ever wanted this life for him . . . but sooner or later he's going to make his own choice . . . and you may lose him . . . the way the Quartermaine's lost me . . ."

"Jason . . ."

Jason didn't let Sonny interrupt, "You know, Lila . . ." he sucked in a deep breath, "she used to tell me that December, Christmas time, it was a good time to reflect on our lives. Take stock of where we are, where we want to be . . . maybe you can share that with Michael and help him make a better choice."

He looked pointedly at his one-time mentor, "You have your kids with you, Sonny . . . it's a gift . . . don't waste that . . . don't waste that time making them into you . . . that's what's happened with Michael . . ." he looked around the room at the untrimmed tree and the boxes of ornaments waiting to be unwrapped. "Try hard with Kristina today . . . don't blow your chance."

Sonny was stunned silent by his friend's impassioned speech.

"I've gotta go, Sonny," he moved to the door. Turning on the threshold, he said softly, "Have a good time with Kristina . . . I'll take care of Franco . . ." in seconds he was gone.

Milo heard everything that his two bosses said to each other. In part he was stunned by what Jason said, because he'd never heard him say so much at one time, and he'd not seen him this emotional since the night Michael was shot.

Walking outside he flipped open his cell and dialed his brother. After filling him in on what happened and discussing his fear that Jason might be distracted Max reassured him that Jason would be safe.

**Bannister's Wharf  
About 5:30 PM EST**

He wasn't sure how long he stood there. He didn't come here that often anymore – too many memories. Somebody had decided it would be a good idea to put speakers on the wharf. And those speakers were blaring the same Christmas music that's been playing everywhere all month.

The current song was something about December and children playing. _Children playing . . . I'm so tired of watching other people's children having a good time._ Now it's going on and on about there being love in every heart, _who writes this stuff?_

Walking to the end of the pier he couldn't hear the music as much but could hear the sound of the water. The gentle lapping sounds of the water and the activity of the harbor were comforting – relaxing – normal.

He heard the commotion behind him just seconds before he felt the thump that hit him below his knees.

"NO, no you can't get me!" the young voice was crying out.

"Hey, hey," Jason leaned down, grasping the small boy in his large hands, "what's going on here?" He pulled the boy off his leg and crouched down to better look at him while looking around for the parent he was sure was only steps behind.

The boy looked at him with a tear-stained face as he swiped his running nose with his mittened hand. "He . . . he's always . . ."

"Jimmy! Leave that poor man alone!" Jason saw a slightly disheveled young woman holding another older boy by the arm and steering a small wheelchair at the same time. Just as she stopped the young girl in the chair dropped a small package to the ground with a small exclamation of dismay.

Jason scooped up the boy he now knew was named Jimmy and walked over to the woman and two other children.

He smiled at her as he put Jimmy down, "It's okay . . . I'm just glad I was there," he indicated the end of the short pier, "to stop him from going into the water."

Brushing her hair from her face, she gave Jason a grateful smile, "I'm glad, too," she chuckled and then turned a not very happy face to Jimmy, "Do you know how lucky you are that this man was standing there and you're not in the water? How many times . . ."

"Mommy," . . . a small tearful voice interrupted, "look!"

The woman and Jason looked at where the girl was pointing. A box of peppermints had fallen from her lap and had spilled open when it fell.

"Oh, Debbie . . . we can get you another . . ."

Jason crouched down by the side of the chair and retrieved the box, "They're okay . . . look, they didn't break and luckily they're all wrapped," he repacked the box with the small candies and handed it back to the little red-head.

The biggest smile lit her face, "Thanks!"

Jason stayed at the side of the chair and looked the child over, smiling at her, he whispered, "You know, I used to get those same peppermints for my Grandmother . . . they were her favorite."

Debbie nodded, seriously, "Mine, too," she whispered back.

He saw the mother scolding the older brother and at the same time watching him with her daughter. He knew he needed to cut this short before she recognized him and ran.

Pointing to the wheelchair, he asked softly, "What happened, Debbie?"

The girl rolled her eyes, "We were sledding and I broke my leg . . . in THREE places! And I had to have an opration!"

Her exasperation made him let out a small laugh, "Well you'll be out of there in no time and good as new," he gently patted her hand as she nodded.

Standing up he started to leave.

"Mr. Morgan?" She called softly.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head back as he tried hard to shut out that surge of fear that rose up when ever anyone recognized him and knew his name. _What did I expect when the PCPD arrests me and plasters my picture in the paper every time anything goes wrong in this town._

He turned toward her expecting the usual tirade about staying away from her kids. He was just, momentarily, grateful that she had called out softly and that, maybe, the kids didn't hear her. _Here we go. This didn't used to bother me so much . . . I wonder why it does now?_

Keeping his hands clasped loosely in front and down he stood in as non-threatening a way as his black clothes and leather jacket would allow and waited.

She looked back over her kids, and then took a step toward him, "Thank you," she smiled, "Debbie's had a real time of it and her Dad's away on business and she's such a Daddy's girl . . ." she looked up at him, and shrugged, "and the boys, well they're boys."

She shook her head looking at the two of them, "Lately, Kevin's been a handful . . . oh, I'm rambling, I do that when I'm stressed out . . ."

Jason allowed himself a small smile. _So many people do when they're stressed._ "I'm glad I could help you out and that I was here to be the blocker for Jimmy," he said calmly with a short nod.

He looked over to the three kids, "Do you need any help getting home? I could call for a cab, or . . ."

"No, really, we're fine . . . I need these two," she pointed to the boys, "to walk off some of that energy and Debbie's been cooped up in GH for the passed five days. She could use the fresh air . . . and it's not that cold tonight, even with the snow . . ."

He nodded, "It's a nice night. Well, good night and be careful," he turned to leave for the second time and then suddenly turned back.

"Excuse me, Mrs . . ."

"Russell, Bethany Russell," she tilted her head toward him.

He kept his relaxed stance, but his brow furrowed slightly in confusion, "Why didn't . . .

"Why didn't I, what, Mr. Morgan? Gather my kids and run screaming?" She asked on a small chuckle.

He gave a single nod.

"I've seen you, in the park and at school, with your nephew, Morgan . . ."

He nodded and his eyes registered recognition.

"Kevin's known Morgan since kindergarten, he's been to our house and he talks about you all the time. How you keep him and his family safe," she raised her brows knowingly as she watched the feared enforcer's face color slightly as he looked away.

"Mr. Morgan," he looked back up at her, "He thinks you're great. He's always talking about what he learns from you . . ." she leaned in closer, "he once told Kevin that you said hitting girls was a really bad thing and that Kevin wasn't supposed to hit any girls but especially not his sister."

She looked back at Kevin, "I almost wish Kevin had someone like you in his life," she smoothed her hair from her eyes, "his father travels so much . . ."

Jason studied her for a moment and made a decision to do something totally out of character for him, "May I?" He asked softly, pointing to her son with his chin.

She nodded happily.

He strode over to her son, "Kevin?"

The boy nodded, he eyes wide. _Morgan's uncle . . . I never met him . . . he's huge . . . Morgan says he has a gun . . ._

Jason sized him up, "So, I hear from your Mom that you know my godson, Morgan."

The boy nodded, and croaked out, "Yessir."

Jason cleared his throat, "Your Mom tells me you've been fighting with Jimmy here and you've been," he cleared his throat again, and the kid started, "you've been difficult lately."

"Mm-I-guesso," he mumbled.

"And your Mom tells me that your Dad is traveling a lot for his work, right?"

"Ye-eah . . ."

Jason had not raised his voice at all but knew he made an impression, "Kevin," he said softly, "look at me."

Kevin raised anxious brown eyes to Jason's blue ones, "Don't you think," Jason looked back at Mrs. Russell, and leaned into Kevin whispering, but loud enough for his mother to hear, "I think it would make your Mom really happy if you behaved yourself and made things easier for her while your Dad's away."

Jason cocked a brow, "And I know your Dad would be very proud of you if you did help out your Mom with taking care of your younger brother and sister."

Kevin gulped and nodded.

Jason nodded back, "You think you could do that, Kevin?"

"Yessir," he nodded, "I can do that . . ."

"Okay, you remember what we talked about . . . and you have a good Christmas . . ." Jason chucked him on the shoulder and turned to leave.

"Have a good holiday, Mrs. Russell," he said quietly, "and be careful getting home."

"Thank you," she mouthed. Stepping behind the wheelchair she called out, "You have a good holiday, too, Mr. Morgan."

As he walked away Jason heard Kevin offer to push his little sister. _Well at least the kid'll help out for now._

End, Part Four


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